


Going My Way

by tisfan



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bisexual Female Character, CIA AU, F/F, Melinda May/Grant Ward (past), mechanic Piper, pilot piper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 07:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19268218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Melinda May is going to see her sister graduate from college if it kills her. Problem is? She just broke down in West Texas.





	Going My Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunalso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/gifts).



The car made a soft thunk and then spluttered like an old man with a chest cough, before billowing up a huge cloud of noxious gray smoke.

Agent Melinda May swore, took her foot off the gas. There was no point in hitting the brake particularly hard, the car had already been struggling up the steep hill. Within thirty seconds, she did, in fact, have to slam on the brakes because the car started rolling backward.

She fought with gravity for a while, glanced in the rearview mirror. There was nothing out there. So, she sighed, gave up, and let the car roll back down to the little flat spot between hills.

She indulged in a short temper tantrum. She slammed her hands into the steering wheel and swore. She screamed once before swearing again. Strangely, she felt much better afterward. She would never have let anyone see that; she had a reputation in the agency of being cool, calm. Reliable. Unflappable.

Then she checked her phone. Zero bars. 20% battery life. Fuck. Maybe she’d get bars at the top of the hill. She popped the phone into power saving mode and tucked it back in her jacket pocket. Well, having had a meltdown, there was nothing left to do aside from _start walking_.

There was a fuckton of nothing out here. Aside from ridiculous hills.

Thinking back, May’d seen exactly two other cars since she left the gas station two hours ago. Both of them had been going the other way.

She stared west; she’d checked the map before leaving the gas station. The next station was not quite two hundred miles from where she’d filled up. She’d been driving for two hours at speeds that varied wildly between eighty or ninety on the downsides and less than thirty near the top of the hill. Probably, she was closer to the unknown station than the known one.

She wrote out a detailed note, who she was, where she was headed, and left it on the driver’s seat of the car, clearly visible from the window.

Not that there was much of value in the car to take, aside from her suitcase in the trunk.

Eighty miles. Probably. Ish.

“You can do this, May,” she told herself.

She grabbed all four of her water bottles and tucked them in her purse -- a ridiculous little leather backpack that her father had gotten her in Italy and that she hated, but she’d grabbed anyway, because she was planning to see her father, and he liked it when she used the things he’d given her -- took one last longing look down the road to see if she could discern houses, or power lines, or anything. Another car would be great, but she couldn’t count on miracles.

Nothing.

She started walking.

***

“I’ll spare you all the stupid remarks, and-- just get in,” the woman said, having pulled up just in front of May in a rusty yellow pickup. She was wearing the most ridiculous clothes, a brilliant pink and purple sports bra, clearly visible under a white tank top, and a set of mechanics coveralls that were peeled down to her waist out of respect for the heat. She had a smudge of grease on her cheek, a quick, jaunty smile that appeared and disappeared nervously, and short, punky hair that looked as if she only had a nodding acquaintance with a comb.

“At this point, I’d almost be grateful if you were an ax murderer,” May said to the woman, and climbed into the truck. Two weeks ago, she wouldn’t have even noticed the truck at all, two days ago, she might have sneered at the fact that there was a cooler in the footwell and burrito wrappers all over the seat. Two hours ago, she might have reluctantly flagged the truck down. Now… she climbed in, shoving wrappers onto the floor without concern and unbuttoning her shirt to take advantage of the icy cold air conditioning.

“Nah, blood’s messy. I’ll crack you upside the head with a socket wrench. By the way, this is yours,” she said, and held out… an oily piece of metal that looked somewhat like a picture frame, if the photograph had melted and been stretched out.

“Great. What is it?”

“Transmission gasket,” she said. “You blew it.”

“Leave my personal life out of this,” May said. She wiped her fingers on her pants. They were long since ruined from sweat and the one time she’d fallen when some of the road had crumbled under her feet.

“All your trans fluid probably went up in a big cloud of smoke,” the woman said. “I’ve called my partner, he’s on his way.”

“Partner in what, hitting me on the head with a wrench? I don’t advise it,” May said.

“Davis drives the rig,” the woman said. “You can call me Piper. I run the local garage. Of course, I’m usually fixing tractors and other farm vehicles, but I know my way around a Dodge.”

“You’re a mechanic?” May stared at the woman. She did have very muscular-looking biceps, and the grease certainly fit the role.

“Mechanic, handyman, plumber, pilot, and instructor,” she said. “What do you do?”

May looked down at her ruined suitpants, the sweaty silk camisole and the jacket, the shoes that, at least weren’t heels, but her feet were swimming in sweat, and she was positive that she had at least two broken blisters. “Suffer.” She took a deep breath. “I work for the CIA. Melinda Mays, nice to meet you, Ms. Piper.”

“Nah, just Piper. Pipes if ya gotta,” she said. “What’s a CIA lady doing in west Texas in a Chevy POS?”

“Attempting to visit my younger sister,” May said. “She is graduating from college. I have not been a very good sister to her, and I really wanted to be there, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to get there in time, even if you can fix my car.”

“Where’s she matriculating from?”

May bit the inside of her cheek for a moment; people frequently messed up the words _matriculating_ and _graduating_.

“Texas Tech,” May said. “I was on assignment down in Orlando, thought I could make the drive in two days, and then drive back. Extra long weekend.”

“Obviously you have never been to Texas before.”

“Not voluntarily, no,” May said. “Been here on assignment once, Fort Worth.”

“That’s practically a whole different country from Lubbock,” Piper said. “But, you’re in luck. Not only can I fix your car, but Lubbock has a very nice executive airport.”

May stared. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You forget part of my resume,” Piper said. “Pilot. I can fly you out there, grab a hotel, fly you back tomorrow and fix your transmission. Have you back on the road, headed East by Monday mid-day.”

“Why?” May said. “I…” She wasn’t really flush with cash; thus not flying in the first place. Her boyfriend, Grant, had dumped her at the beginning of the year for someone younger, leaving her to pay the entire mortgage on her own. And then she had several major appliances break down: dishwasher, dryer, and then her fridge. All of that, she could have handled, she had savings, but-- her wallet was getting very thin.

“My parents couldn’t be bothered to come see me graduate,” Piper said. “I like people who make an effort for their family. Family’s important. So, I’m gonna get you where you need to be.”  

“Thank you,” May said. She was going to be at her baby sister’s graduation. She could feel guilty about it later. “Can I… I don’t know, do something for you?” She eyed Piper; the purple and pink top, the punky hair. “Buy you dinner?”

“Yes, yes you can,” Piper said. “I think I’d like that.”


End file.
